5. Honey

HONEY

The locationfor the Key Club is wholly separate from Avalon. One guest will enter through the current pathway that I'm entering from and the other entrance is on the other side.

Clara gives me a warm smile as she leads me down the hall and directs me to two doors. Both of them are black, one with a gold circle and the other with a heart.

"The heart is for the larger glory hole that a potential partner's bottom half can go through. The circle is just the signature glory hole experience. I know your preference is for women, but if you are interested in pegging, you can also partake in that section."

I blink at her, and she just nods, opening the door and leading me inside.

"This would be your side of the entrance."

The room is simple. Dimly lit, a table on the left and a panel with buttons on the right. The walls are black with gold light fixtures and nothing remarkable in the space. It's simple, direct, and most of all, discreet.

"The most ideal position for this type of glory hole would be her legs pushed back against her own body. A bit of an air-tight seal," Clara jokes as I inspect the half-heart shaped entry.

"Your partner for the evening will be first to arrive. Your door will not unlock until they hit the green button. Announcing that they are ready. You will also be the first to leave after your scene is finished. We understand that anonymity is our clients' highest concern with being a member of the Key Club and we want to make sure we help keep the mystery alive."

"Limits?" I ask and Clara leans against the dark wall, her tablet in hand.

"Current membership includes use of the Key Club twice a week. When you log in to the portal, you will be able to see your selected scene partner's limits before requesting to book with them. We will provide a list upon arrival as a reminder as well. Guests are allowed to bring in any additional toys or items as long as they are approved by your pre-scheduled partner."

Clara is efficient and direct with her answer. She's part of the reason I finally caved and got a membership. She's no bullshit and a hell of a saleswoman.

"You mentioned a green button?"

"Each side has safeguards," she points to the three buttons. "Simple red, yellow, green to signify limits if needed. There is also an alert button on both sides if you need someone from the club to step in. Music is optional, but the wall is thick enough it's hard to hear the person on the other side. The preference is up to you."

I nod my head and inspect the room. Everything Avalon does is luxe, and well thought out—this space is no exception.

It's clean, simple, and straightforward.

Exactly how I want it.

No feelings, no niceties, just raw fucking.

"Have you uploaded your profile?" she asks.

"Not yet. I'll do it tonight."

"We've gotten multiple new members because of this new room. We already have sixty people in the database."

"How many of them are men?"

"I'll have to look when I get back to my desk," she replies with a cringe.

Meaning that there aren't many women to choose from. I'm not surprised more men are signing up for this specific room. Maybe it won't be as easy to find someone to scene with as I imagined. I'll have to take additional care in my profile to ensure that I'm someone of interest.

"We also allow couples to book the room if they don't want the anonymity feature."

The couples.

They get fucking everything.

I don't want a relationship, far from it. But it feels like they own everything at this goddamn club. What happened to casual sex?

"We have other nights planned utilizing this room as well, but everything will always be updated on the portal. As you know, cleanliness is of the utmost importance to us here at Avalon, so there will only be 4 sessions available each night. You will receive an access code to the Key Club five minutes prior to your scheduled time."

"Thank you, Clara."

"Of course, as always, if you have any questions I'm here to assist. After you schedule and hold a session, we will be sending out questionnaires to see how we can make the Key Club the best that it can be."

"Maybe a new name," I say and Clara tries to hold her smile.

"Yes, well. Is there anything else?"

"That will be all. Thank you for taking the time to show me the space. I'll make my profile tonight."

She gives me a curt nod, a clear dismissal. I wonder how many of these fucking tours she has to do today. I take one last glance at the room behind me and wonder if maybe it will be the thing to help me get through this lull I've been in.

Comingup with an alias and answering eight-hundred fucking questions has me second guessing if I want to be a part of the Key Club, but with nothing to do, I somehow prevail.

I choose Wayne as my stupid alias, because fucking Batman was the first thing that came to mind, and I drone through all the mandatory questions.

No, I, in fact, do not want to get pegged.

Yes, I would prefer music on instead of odd silence on my end of the wall.

Yes, I would prefer to wear a condom.

No, I'm not okay with sounding. Jesus Christ. I scrub my face as I continue clicking check box after check box, somehow feeling vanilla each time I hit no.

Once I finally think I'm done and can hit submit, I'm plagued by the final section where you have to write a little about yourself.

I tap away at the keys, remembering that I somehow need to stand out in a plethora of guys who want to partake in the new club experience. Granted, a huge portion may not even be into women, but I didn't sit here for nearly an hour clicking through all this shit to not get chosen.

There's not supposed to be any identifiable information, just a little something about what you want from the experience. How do I write that I want to fuck someone without them looking at me, begging me to kiss them? That I just want the sexual gratification with no other strings attached, just dirty, primal fucking.

So, I write about what I want my experience to be like.

I want you wet and waiting, eager to please, and willing to take what you get. I'll make it good for you if you deserve it. You'll be writhing on the other side of the wall, begging for a stranger to fuck you. We might not know each other, but I'm ready to make your fantasies come true.

Fuck it.

I hit submit and wait while the circle in the middle spins and it creates my profile. It automatically compiles a list of women who would be of interest to me.

If I have to read through all these damn profiles, I might just toss the whole idea out the window. This is why I don't date, why I don't approach many women at the club. I have no interest in the personal details of these potential women beyond what's going to happen behind closed doors.

I look at the aliases and they're all stupid basic food names. I roll my eyes and click on the first one.

Scrolling past all her check marks, I look at her personal note about what she's looking for.

Looking for a safe space to explore my sexual desires. I want to be used on my terms.

That's it. Two simple sentences. I immediately submit an inquiry to the stranger who is calling herself Honey.

She could be 60, unattractive, or completely not my type beyond a glory hole, but it doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter who she is, what she does, or what she thinks about me beyond my cock inside of her.

I push the elevator button,it's been at least four minutes and the piece of shit still hasn't hit my floor. No longer having patience, I decide to hit the stairwell.

"Mother-fucking, cock-sucking, cunt."

I smile at the voice as I see Penny on the next level, collecting papers and haphazardly cleaning up spilled coffee.

"Rough morning?" I ask, bending down and collecting the dry papers I can.

"If the fucking elevator was running properly, I wouldn't have had this issue."

"I'll call maintenance when I get to the office."

She looks up at me with watery eyes and nods. I finally look at the papers I'm collecting.

Shanahan's Private Investigations is plastered on the front with their crest. The rest are details about Penny's adoption history and general information about where and when my aunt and uncle adopted her.

"You're looking for your parents?"

"My birth parents, yes."

"I didn't realize that was something you wanted."

She shrugs her shoulders, giving up on the coffee as she stands up and takes the paper from my hand.

"I just need to know," she says, and I nod.

"What if you don't like what you find out?"

"Hating the result is better than not knowing at all."

Don't I fucking know it?

We head down the stairs together; I text the cleaning crew to clean up the stairwell and send another text to Marie to have the elevator guy come out and figure out what the fuck is going on.

The sun is blistering fucking hot as we step outside.

"Do you want a ride to work?" I ask her.

Kemper's isn't far from our building, but it's still on my way to the office.

"Please," she says and we get in my car and I blast the AC as high as it will go.

"Do Aunt Holly and Uncle Tim know that you're looking?"

"Yeah, it was my mom's idea. I've held off on actually doing anything, but now it feels like the right time."

"Why?" I ask.

She pulls her dress down over her thighs and fidgets with the hem before speaking.

"I'm turning thirty and I'm not anywhere near where I thought I would be by now. I hate my job. My relationships have been one shitty boyfriend after the next. I think having some closure on my birth parents will help me move on, among other things."

"Other things?"

She looks over at me and squints. "You're being a chatty Cathy today. But like I told you before, no more boyfriends. Maybe I should go back to school or something, but the idea of going back at twenty-nine makes me want to jump off a tall building."

"Don't go back unless you want to. You'll figure something out."

She looks at me like she's never seen me before as we pull up to Kemper's.

"Thanks for the ride," she says, opening the door. I give her a sharp nod and drive off to the office.

Penny and I were closer when we were children. Once I hit my late teens, I wanted nothing to do with my younger cousin and twin brothers. Our lives went separate ways, besides family gatherings. But it's been recently that I've started to actually pay attention to her. I've been so caught up in my own shit I never really cared to dive deeper into what her life must be like.

Maybe I'm not the only fucked-up one in the family after all, and it's wrong, but it's nice to find solace in someone else's pain.